Wednesday, June 30, 2004

Bullshit it was fun. I pretended to work and I ate some pizza - basically a full day in my life. The highlight came at 11 when Mike called and asked if Miller Lite was okay for our kegs. We would have had PBR but the retard that "helped" Mike yesterday gave him the run-around because well, who the fuck knows. If this jerk-off hadn’t been a complete moe, we might be awaiting the arrival of two gorgeous PBR kegs.
So we went from a high quality, amazing, delicious, scrumptious keg of Pabst Blue Ribbon to Miller Lite. Now I know what you're saying "But Stephen, Miller Lite is running for President of beer! Surely it must be good." To this I would obviously respond by saying the following "Yeah dumbass? Well George Bush is our president so how fucking bad must Miller Lite taste if that's the president of beers?"
PBR is a Blue Ribbon beer! Its award winning. It's like saving up a whole lot of money to get a really highly recommended hooker and then finding out she's already booked so you just have the President come to your bachelor party...whoopdifuckingdo. Metaphor or no metaphor, Miller Lite is a kick in the knickers compared to PBR.
Then this afternoon I ate a couple of chicken wings, drank a beer and watched Ocean’s 11. Isn’t Julia Roberts amazing!? What a woman. She’s so elegant and beautiful. Please. She’s like the Versace that ate right. Speaking of Versace, have you seen the niece that just inherited half the empire? WOW! What a looker, huh? Make you wonder what they have in the drinking water. That girl alone is enough of an argument to make you consider a law where people need a license to mate.

In more exciting news I’m getting cable on Friday. I can’t wait. I’ll then officially waste away my summer. It’s only a matter of time until my first issue of TV Guide comes in the mail. The latest CRL comes out tomorrow. All very exciting stuff. An interesting paragraph like that and I’ll have to really contemplate exactly how many brain cells I’ve killed. I think that might be it for now. I have to go visit ESPN.com for the 49th time today. Until next time.

Friday, June 25, 2004

I am posting this in the spirit of the blog. You see, I've done some soul searching and I've realized that it's not "who" reads it, it's the fact that its there to be ignored. Thats what the internet is all about. Besides, I know that soon this blog will be bustling with the cummulative activity of a bee hive at a picnic of Ritalin-addicted schizophrenics with ADD. (That was one crazy Sunday BTW) So don't fret dear reader (I use the singular for a reason) I will be posting with great consistency from now on. Thank you.

Thursday, June 17, 2004

This sucks because no one is reading my blog. I don't even know why I'm taking time to vent on this thing because I'm the only one who will read it. Ironic, eh? I think so and I'm the only one who's reading it so 100% of my readership agrees.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

I'm interning at a magazine this summer called "Capital Region Living." For next month I'm supposed to write an article on alpacas. I thought I would drop the web address of the Owners & Breeders official web-site. Here you can learn all about the animal that God probably stuffs his own pillow with...assuming the almighty sleeps. I bet he does. So here ya go...
http://www.alpacainfo.com/index.html

I’ve been fighting this for a while now. Ever since I heard it on the radio for the second time. The first time it was a novelty. The second, an affront to everything I love about our overpopulated, supersaturated pop-culture controlled music scene today. I wrestled with whether this was the pinnacle or antithesis of popular culture. Was this the exception that proved the rule? No, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
The first time I laughed, but not again. No more. This was ridiculous. My hatred for William Hung was semi-immediate. After his comedic remix gained air-play on radio stations making fun of him.

Not to mention those fucking turncoats at FUSE. A station that revels in not becoming what MTV did. The station that has satirical commercials poking at MTV series like “Newlyweds” protests anything but music on a music video channel and yet who produced the music video of this retarded hack and showed the “Making of the Video?” FUSE. Fucking hypocrites.

I would gladly sacrifice any two of my immediate family members to see the death of William Hung in an Iraqi torture camp. I would gladly give up my fertility to see William Hung, and every greedy, senseless, idiot, record executive who has had any association with this “man’s” record deal die a terribly painful and excruciatingly horrible death. I would without hesitation cast my first born into an active volcano for the opportunity to cast everyone who purchased the “Inspiration” album into the fiery depths of Mordor.
If William Hung turned out to be a cult leader and got everyone to drink the punch, I would dance for a year straight. I would not stop celebrating until my heart exploded from happiness and utter exhaustion. Never before have I wanted to kick a “celebrity” in the face more. However, I would hesitate to kick Hung in the face for fear that he would end up looking even the slightest bit closer to normal.
If I ever received a one album deal from a recording label I record tracks that would dream up elaborate ends of this man’s life that would make the 50 Cent sound like 98 Degrees. I would spew venom of my hatred for this man and everyone who has anything to do with his rise to the front and center of the public eye that would make people say out loud, “You know, I don’t think that Tupac/Biggie thing was so bad.” I want to bash William Hung in a way that would make Eminem’s detractors think, “Slim Shady isn’t really so bad. He is after all protected under freedom of speech.”
I would like to go on national television and say things about these morons that would cause Michael Powell to furrow his brow and say “Who?” when the name Howard Stern is mentioned.

If there was ever a reason to stop the juggernaut that is American Idol, Billy Hung is it. He’s got a porn-star name, but I’d rather see him play the lead in a snuff film.

I dream of a William Hung suicide. I can’t fall asleep at night without trying to come up with clever headlines for the announcement of his death. “William Hung Himself” “The Jury is Hung on his Legacy…and so is he” “Ironically in life he was William Hung, in death he’ll be known as William Hare Kari”
I can picture the taped suicide message. “I ty vewy haad but it to much even fo me but my mom want let me go outside wivout my jacket.” Fucking goofy looking bastard.

Of course it will be released with 3 different remixes as B-sides. It will shoot up the charts.